More potty stories

My last foray into potty training lasted just short of 24 hours. I don’t have the patience, the boy does not have the listening capacity and frankly, it is just better that the whole idea was abandoned anyway. I don’t need anything else in my life to perpetuate any kind of alcohol abuse. Sadly, the boy doesn’t consider the subject dropped. He continues to be totally fascinated by the potty. It is an all consuming fascination.

Take for instance our high class lunch out at a local fast food retailer a few weeks ago. We opted for a quiet table away from the temptation of overstimulating Play Structure. Of course that left tables in close proximity to the washrooms. Being the smart parents we face the child away from the washroom doors in a vain attempt to downplay the whole, we’re sitting close to the potty thing. That is until I get up to use said facility and the boy notices. From that point on he proceeded to tell every customer, who made use of the “clean” public restroom, that they needed to flush. In that loud high pitched furry red muppet voice of his.

This afternoon takes the cake of all potty stories. In fact, it may take the cake for all boy stories in general. This beats out the time that he wore his shirt as a skirt, the time he escaped from the bathroom (at bath time) with his pants down around his ankles, the time he watched me get dressed and had to point out where my butt was, and the time we went through the mega bullseye store and he pointed out every Asian person as Uncle Nain.

I was having a conversation with the MIL about my impending hair appointment when I realized that a house with a 2 year old was far too quiet. Upon further inspection my bedroom door was closed. I peeked inside and saw no little boy, but heard something. The child has the propensity to play in our closet. I open the closet door and the boy has pulled his potty chair out from under my clothes, has the seat up and is sitting on it, fully clothed. I asked him what he was doing. “Potty,” he replies. Ok, so I shut the door and sit on the end of my bed continuing my phone conversation with the MIL. From inside the closet I hear flushing sound effects. The boy comes out of the closet, closes it behind him and I ask him again what he is doing. “Potty,” he tells me. I then ask if he wants to go into the bathroom and go on the potty. “Nope.” He then repeats the in and out of the closet complete with flushing sounds about 3 times. After I get off the phone with the MIL he demands that his stuffed George monkey now has to go potty. Of course George must flush, wash and dry hands. All while in our closet.

I think we’re making progress.